


Dirty Wonders

by WhoopsOK



Category: Captain America (Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And not for fun I promise but it's not tragic, Banned Together Bingo, Begging, Coming Out, Desperation, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Feelings Realization, Genderplay, Happy Sex, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Kink Discovery, M/M, Not between Wade/Steve, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other: See Story Notes, POV Wade Wilson, Panties, Porn with Feelings, Quiet Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Public Sex, Steve Rogers Swears, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Swearing, Use of a slur, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28820160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: Still, it’s only a few days later when Wade asks, “What do I gotta do to get the other six?”It must be out of the blue, probably entirely unrelated to the present conversation, because Steve looks confused. “The other six what?”“Of the seven dirty words,” Wade explains.The answer takes a second to load, but then Steve’s face opens with appalled laughter.(Wade is maybe a little obsessed with making Steve curse.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Wade Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	1. Prologue: Sh*t

**Author's Note:**

> BTB Fill for The 7 Dirty Words
> 
> The 7 dirty words per [George Carlin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ulTgP6fjfA) are: shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.
> 
> I mention it in the chapter notes, but just for reference, in this story chapters piss, fuck, cunt, and tits are all explicit. Also, to the shock of absolutely nobody who knows me, there’s a watersports scene in this. If that squicks you, skip Chapter P*ss. 💛

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 1/29/21 - minor typo fix

Wade is on top of the world, he’s walking on air, living on cloud nine. No, he’s higher than the top of the world, he’s got to be, he’s over the moon somewhere. He’s absolutely lost his mind in the biggest, most final way or otherwise he’s actually, _truly_ dead this time and the afterlife is a much more forgiving place than planet earth.

Wade Winston Wilson is fucking one of the Twenty-Six Wonders of The World.

“There are only Seven Wonders,” Steve says without opening his eyes, but he’s smiling so Wade can’t be bothered to be bothered that he didn’t remember deciding to say any of that out loud.

“Not by my count, sweet cheeks,” Wade informs him cheerfully, nuzzling his delectable bottom.

This absolutely cannot be real, but every time Wade asks and Steve pinches his arm before kissing him, it appears to be _very real_. By some very strange stroke of reality, Steve Rogers— _Captain Fucking America_ —is smitten. With Wade.

…By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.

“I like you,” Steve tells him, again and probably not for the last time, pulling Wade into his arms and holding tight. “I like you. I think you’re funny and smart. I enjoy having you around, because you’re really sweet when you wanna be and you make everything fun. Even the bad days are worth it,” he kisses him briefly, then longer like he distracted himself with the touch of Wade’s lips. He smiles like sin, though, which _shouldn’t be possible,_ “Also, apparently you’re good in bed.”

Well, be it far from Wade’s MO to ever question keeping something he shouldn’t be allowed to have. He stays plastered right against Steve’s side whenever he gets the chance, kisses him and makes him laugh any time he can. He’s still working on not popping a boner every time Steve defends his honor, whatever little may be left of it. He’s on his very, very best behavior and is maybe even something like a tangential Avenger. Sort of. Okay, not really, but apparently dreams come true sometimes, so he keeps dreaming.

For however reality breaking it is for Wade to be in an actual, happy relationship—with _Steve_ , of all people—it’s something seemingly benign that sparks off a brand-new obsession with his brand-new lover.

“ _Shit,_ ” Steve mumbles under his breath and Wade glances up to see him frowning at the shattered charcoal stick smudging the drawing he was working on.

The casual use of a swear snags on Wade’s attention.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what _foul_ language! Am I rubbing off on you too much already?” Wade scoffs, folding his arms and shaking his head. “I knew giving you three orgasms in one day was too much for you to handle.”

Predictably, Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s still cute. He dumps the charcoal off his page. “Wade, I was a soldier in the 40s, I know how to curse.”

“What! I’ve never heard you curse at all,” Wade exclaims, because he’s certain he’d remember that. “Tony still talks about—”

“Tony talks too much,” Steve cuts in. He sounds annoyed which tickles Wade because he talks thrice as much as Tony Stark and Steve has never been that annoyed with him. “I do curse, it’s just…” He shrugs a little, “not polite.”

“Huh!” Wade says, “I mean, depending on who you ask, taking it up the ass isn’t pol—” He laughs at the eraser Steve bounces off his head. “I’m just saying! I’m not exactly polite company.”

“Don’t I know it,” Steve laughs, but Wade gets distracted when he stands up to kiss him. “I like treating you nice, though, pal.”

 _Pal_.

God, what a stupid word to get all touched over.

Shortly following Wade does some touching all over of his own and spends the afternoon enjoying Steve’s mouth in other ways.

Still, it’s only a few days later when Wade asks, “What do I gotta do to get the other six?”

It must be out of the blue, probably entirely unrelated to the present conversation, because Steve looks confused. “The other six what?”

“Of the seven dirty words,” Wade explains.

The answer takes a second to load, but then Steve’s face opens with appalled laughter. “Wade, do you have a _fetish_?”

Wade leans closer to him. “Would it work if I said yes? Something, something, pretty boy…” he gives Steve a nipping little kiss, lowers his voice, “dirty mouth.”

Steve rolls his eyes again, but Wade thinks his ears are a shade pinker. “You gotta know I’m gonna make it hard for you now,” he says, then he’s definitely pinker when Wade’s face lights up. “No, shut the—That’s not what I meant!”

“No, no, finish what you were gonna say!” Wade pleads, but he’s come to recognize most of the faces Steve makes. He’s shown his hand too early and now Steve is digging in his heels just for the sport of being hardheaded.

Steve pats Wade’s cheek, smirking. “Better luck next time, pal.”

Wade is gonna have to get creative.

…Or beg, whichever works, shame is for suckers.


	2. P*ss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted, this chapter contains desperation and watersports. Skip if you’re squicked, but if ya nasty, enjoy.

Almost immediately, Wade starts pushing, because that’s what he does. Especially with someone who will shove him back if he’s too far out of line (or if Wade is very bad and very lucky, shove him _face down_ and make _Wade_ curse instead). He’s never afraid of Steve not telling him how he feels about something. They definitely have that in common.

So, Wade is keeping a running list in his diary about _T7DW_ and tentative plans to get Steve to say them. There is admittedly a bit of overlap in these plans, but hey, it doesn’t need to be creative to work. Most of them have _not_ worked, but Steve has been entertained by his attempts.

Today has presented a fantastic opportunity to execute Plan Piss, because the helicarrier—and Deadpool is truly struggling not to fanboy that he was allowed onboard—is just reentering domestic airspace when Steve makes a start for the bathroom.

Wade immediately gets in his way. “Oh hey, where ya headed, Cap?”

Steve arches an eyebrow at him. “Uh… To the bathroom?”

“Really? Why? What do you gotta do in there?” Wade asks and watches realization flicker in Steve’s eyes and pull a smirk across his mouth.

“I’d say nice try, but it’s not your best,” Steve teases, going to step around Wade who smoothly glides right back into his way. “Wade…” he laughs, putting his hands on his hips.

“Say it and I’ll let you go.”

Steve hesitates for long enough that Wade is about to think he’s maybe pushing a bad button and is about to blow up this relationship being too—

“…Is this a challenge?” Steve asks and Wade would think he means to fight him, or maybe just means to make a dare of it, if not for the steady flush rising in his cheeks.

Oh, well, _hellooo._

“Do you want it to be?” Wade asks, low and soft. In a government-owned flying building full of superheroes, Wade is willing to use his inside voice to keep Steve happy and delicately turned on instead of indignantly swatting at him to be quiet.

“I—Kinda?” Steve replies, just as softly. For all the snark he gives everyone about not being a virgin, he’s so easy to stun with anything even _mildly_ beyond vanilla.

Wade fucking loves that he gets to be the one to help him dump these sprinkles on the sundae of his sex life, it’s a goddamn _delight_.

“Then you’re not going until you say it,” Wade replies, feeling giddy when Steve sucks in a quick breath. He kisses him, because he can’t help himself and won’t if Steve doesn’t ask him. And Steve does nothing to hide that he likes the direction this is going, doesn’t even break the kiss to chide him about PDA. He even looks a little put out when Wade steps away before Steve can lay his hands on him.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“To take a piss before we head out!” Wade replies cheerfully, grinning wide in the face of Steve’s sneer. “Be back in a jiffy!”

That cheerful cockiness last for a few hours before it’s eclipsed by what could be kindly described as frustrated (and simultaneously impressed) arousal.

Goddamn super soldier serum.

Steve goes about his day without so much as a twitch, doesn’t even clench when he laughs at the “ _NO STEVES ALLOWED_ ” crayon drawing on Wade’s bathroom door. It’s hours later, when they’re sitting down to dinner, before he even shifts like he’s sort of uncomfortable.

A nervous little thought nudges the back of Wade’s mind, then. “Stevie Pie, you know the game stops being fun for me if you hurt yourself, right?”

“I know my safe word and my limits,” Steve assures him patiently, smirking sweetly. “I won’t let you hurt me.”

Wade brightens, at once comforted and aroused by the words. “Yeah? Where are you?” He scooches closer to Steve to put a hand on his tummy where it’s a little distended. His heart pounds a little harder when Steve flinches away from his hand with a half-smothered protest. “Ball park it for me, scale of one to ten.”

“ _Seven_ ,” he hisses through his teeth, his thighs flinching a bit closer together before he gets control of himself. He’s breathing a little fast and his eyes are wide when he meets Wade’s gaze. He licks his lips, challenges, “I can do this all day.”

“Hmm, that’s impressive actually,” Wade murmurs, kissing up Steve’s jaw. “Maybe you should have another beer.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I’m having a _blast_ ,” Wade agrees right against Steve’s neck. “Is that a no?” He smiles when he hears Steve pull another bottle across the table. “There’s a good boy.”

“Oh, shove off,” Steve snaps, but his skin flashes hot under Wade’s lips. He also chugs his beer.

Three beers later, they’re watching TV in Wade’s bed. Or, more accurately, the TV is _on_ , tuned into something Wade couldn’t give less of a shit about because Steve can’t stop fidgeting. Honestly, Wade hadn’t gone into this little endeavor thinking Steve had a piss fetish, but well.

Life comes at you fast.

And anyway, squirmy and overheated is a good look on Steve, regardless of how he got that way. Wade doesn’t have nearly enough impulse control to keep his hands off someone who wants him back, so he gives up the pretense of caring about the television and rolls towards Steve.

Steve tenses when Wade settles over him. “Babe…”

“Scale of one to ten?”

“Nine and a half,” Steve answers breathlessly, catching Wade by the hips when he tries to lower himself onto him.

“You wanna call it?” Wade asks, hovering carefully without touching.

Steve _I-don’t-know-when-to-quit_ Rogers shakes his head, crunches up to kiss him before wincing and trying to close his legs, getting caught up on Wade’s body. “No,” he answers shakily. “It’s—uh. I-I feel…” Swallowing, he finally lets Wade sink into him enough for Wade to feel how fucking _diamond sword hard_ he is right now.

Wade is so hot it’s probably about to become dangerous. He feels like he’s going to combust. “Cap, you kinky little shit, you been holding out on me…” he admonishes, kissing the groan Steve lets out when Wade rolls his hips down, not bothering to try and keep his weight off Steve’s stomach. “You’re into this?”

“I didn’t _know_ ,” Steve defends tightly, face splotchy red as he writhes beneath Wade.

Well, if Steve’s having fun, Wade’s gotta up the ante, no?

The process of getting Steve out of his clothes is a production when Steve keeps twitching his legs shut, half reaching for his crotch before just fisting his hands in the sheets. His eyes go wide when Wade breaks out the Gun Oil.

“Are you serious?”

“Dude, you’re so hard you’re about to start drilling a hole in the ceiling, fuck yeah, I’m serious,” Wade replies, popping open the lid. “Are you tapping out, _Cap_?” he challenges just to watch Steve set his jaw, like his eyes aren’t blown all dark and wanting, like his dick doesn’t throb against his hip, _fuck_.

Wade holds him down, arm like a bar against his stomach as he slicks up his fingers, dick leaking at the sound Steve makes and the fact that he isn’t sure if it’s from the pressure on his stomach or the pressure on his taint.

Steve finally caves when Wade is three fingers deep. “ _Please, Wade, please_.”

Wade looks up from where he’s rubbing his fingers inside Steve to find him with one hand over his face, the other squeezing just this side of too tight around his dick. “Please what, babe?”

It takes a few stumbling breaths for Steve’s tongue to cooperate with him, for the words to fight past the barrier of his own stubborn desire to win. Then he’s squeezing his legs tighter around Wade’s waist, gasping, “Please let _—let me piss._ ”

Wade groans softly. “There we go, was that so hard?” he teases, leaning down to kiss Steve’s chest before he asks, “Where do you want to go?”

Steve blinks at him, bleary with arousal and confusion. “Wh—? _Where?_ ”

“Yeah, Steve, do you wanna go to the bathroom or,” he strokes his fingers a little more firmly to make a point, “do you wanna go right _now-now_?

“The-the _mattress_ ,” Steve gasps which is not a no and, wow, if he’s been sleeping on this fetish the whole time, Wade’s got a lot of lost time to make up for. He’s got a dirty mind, it doesn’t take much provocation to send his thoughts spiraling into the gutter. There’s a lot of interesting stuff down there, but he’s getting off track chasing that rabbit when Steve is beneath him already at his breaking point.

“Vinyl sheets,” Wade dismisses with a shrug, doesn’t mention how that relates to blood and his job. “Can you hold it if I make you come?”

“No, no, _shit_ , I’ll—”

“Do you wanna?” Wade asks, feeling a little reckless with want, with the wild arousal in Steve’s eyes. “Want me to fuck you until you come all over yourself and _piss the bed_?”

Steve is not really the sort to _whine_ , but the sound that earns him is the closest Wade has ever heard him get and it hits like—like lightning right against the part of his brain that causes boners. The sound gets smothered between them when Steve clambers to tug him down, holding him just as tightly as he’d been gripping the sheets, like he’ll lose control if he doesn’t. Wade doesn’t know what to do with being wanted, _needed_ like that, but he doesn’t get the chance to get lost in the thought before Steve gasps, “Wade, babe, please, make me piss,” and blows Wade’s mind right out of the water.

They fit together like magnets, the familiar clench of Steve’s body around his cock drawing out a familiar spew of filth from his mouth that Steve probably can’t hear over his own panting. He can hardly resist Wade’s foul mouth on a regular day, but today, when he’s already so on edge and overwrought, body begging for release, Wade barely gets a few pumps in before Steve is clenching up like a vice around him.

“ _Oh jeepers_ ,” Wade grinds out, only barely holding back from blowing his top, too, as Steve comes apart beneath him.

Steve lets out the prettiest little moans—high, and sweet, and completely involuntary—when he finally slumps back and just _lets go_.

God _damn_ super soldier serum; he pisses like a firehose for _ages._

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Steve,” Wade pants like a bitch in heat at the sight of his beloved lost to the most basic kind of pleasure, head thrown back and face slack. “You’re a pipe dream come true, look at _that_ ,” he says, grabbing for Steve’s dick as it keeps soaking the sheets beneath them. It throbs in his hand—making the spray splatter and Steve keen—when Wade pumps his arm. “Come on, baby, I know you got a few more in you.”

“ _Christ, Wade_ ,” Steve nearly sobs, “Please, _yes_ , _please_ —”

By the time Wade comes, he’s managed to drag four more orgasms out of Steve, leaving him limp and shuddering in a puddle of his own piss.

“No, you may _not_ take a picture, Wade.”

Damn, worth a shot.

Well worth the laundry they have to do now, too.


	3. F*ck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Semi-public smut!

Getting Steve to say piss was such a fucking fun ordeal, Wade doesn’t immediately try to shove his way through the rest of the list.

It’s a little too much fun to exploit the way Steve goes all cotton candy pink when Wade slides him an extra drink or winks at him when he’s going to the bathroom or whispers, _on a scale of one to ten—_ whatever. Steve is not easy to fluster, so it’s damn fun when Wade manages it. Point is, he gets distracted, and then life gets busy in the Super but not Super Fun way.

There are missions Wade is not allowed to know about until after the fact.

It really only irks him a little bit, enough to pout, but not enough to make a stink about it, because he knows the score. His brief stint working as Uncle Sam’s Murder Machine involved a lot of secret keeping and redacted files. At least Steve isn’t off assassinating dignitaries or anything; he’s trying to get the drop on some real shitheads and like…Wade doesn’t know, probably rescue a school full of one-armed orphans or something.

But Wade is _pouty_ and _misses him_ like a fucking sap, because he hasn’t been on a mission this long since they got together.

“Cap’s not here yet,” Secretary Severe Bun tells him the second he walks into HQ, because that’s the only reason Wade can be relied on to show up in a building that smells so much like _suits_ _and taxes_.

“But he _is_ scheduled back in like ten minutes,” Wade says, leaning over her desk to grin at her. She likes him, he can tell; she’s never tased him even once. “I even wore my mask so you wouldn’t have to see my face the whole time!”

“How kind of you,” she says, drolly. “How’s Al?”

They chat until he annoys her enough to get banished to the loading dock when Steve’s team confirms their arrival time is T-30.

“Welcome home, honey!” Wade shouts, spreading his arms out wide when he sees Steve. “Miss your favorite rash?”

The rest of the Avengers just roll their eyes, but the annoyance on everyone else is irrelevant to the happiness that reflexively lights Steve’s face. “Awful friendly for a rash,” he jokes, but wanders immediately into Wade’s space like he’s relieved to be there.

Wade is the luckiest son of a bitch. “That’s how we rashes get to stick around,” he tells Steve seriously, wagging his finger before wrapping Steve up in a bone crushing hug that takes him off his feet. Steve doesn’t protest to the treatment, just laughing. “Speaking of sticky, there’s some sushi rice with our name on it somewhere in this city.”

“Let me drop some stuff off with Coulson,” Steve tells him, patting Wade’s back until he puts him down. “We can head to lunch right after, okay?”

That’s one option! It really, really is!

But again, Wade isn’t known for impulse control, and after a brief gauntlet of patting each other’s shoulders and saying goodbye, the rest of #SquadGoals is wandering off on their own. Wade should honestly receive an award for strolling easily beside Steve all the way to Coulson’s office—who _does not_ like him as much as Severe Bun, but is nicer—and out again before he pounces.

Wade can’t wait long enough to get home and trusts that Steve never lets himself be moved anywhere he doesn’t want to go. He shoves him into a vacant office.

Steve goes in easily—that trust is going to give Wade a stroke one day—and goes from confused, to smirking when Wade rips his mask off. He doesn’t even look remotely surprised when Wade rushes him, just opens his arms and steps back so he doesn’t crash into the wall as their lips meet.

The soft little sound of want Steve lets out goes straight to Wade’s dick even as he pulls back to whisper, “It’s been way too long since I tasted you.”

A shudder runs its course down Steve’s body, his breath hitching when Wade grinds against him. “Get me home and you can taste me all you like,” he assures Wade softly.

“Why wait?” Wade says, sliding a hand between them to stroke Steve through his pants. He’s not sure if it’s a serum thing or a Steve thing but he is charmingly easy to get hard. As evidenced by the thick handful of super soldier dick in his hand. “My mouth is here, your cock is here; it seems like fate.”

“Because we _work_ here,” Steve replies, but also hasn’t let go of Wade even slightly, “and someone might hear or come looking for— _Wade._ ” He grinds into Wade’s hand like a reflex.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop,” Wade says, because that is always, immovably true. He lowers his voice, “Or you can try to keep quiet while I blow your fucking mind.”

“Don’t think it’s my mind you’re into, pal,” Steve huffs, but he sounds fond.

“I’m into all of you, big guy, but I specifically want to get your cock down my throat. _Ooh_ , feels like you’re into that,” Wade says when Steve throbs in his hand. His mouth is watering. “Can I, please?”

Steve cuts a glance at the door, worrying his lip with his teeth for a moment. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a silent breath. “…Lock the door and get on your knees.”

_Christ on a bike._ “Sir, yes, sir!” he chirps, rushing to comply.

By the time he’s turned back around, Steve is leaning against the edge of the conference table, trying to look casual. Looking more like if he was anywhere else, he’d have Wade on the floor like _five minutes ago_.

It’s a good look. Wade is maybe soaking into his boxers.

“One order of sloppy toppy coming up!” Wade exclaims under his breath, burying his face in Steve’s crotch as he laughs disgustedly. “Hey buddy, did you miss me?”

“Are you talking to my _dick_?”

“Did it _sound_ like I was talking to your dick?”

“Yes?”

“Then why’d you have to ask?” Wade teases, only to let out a muffled groan when Steve presses Wade’s face a little harder against his clothed arousal.

“Smartass.”

“ _That I am!_ ” Wade agrees, tilting his head in Steve’s hands to wink up at him before going for his zipper. He makes a big show of nuzzling against Steve’s underwear, too, breathing deeply.

“Jeez, Wade…” Steve says, stroking over his head.

“Shh,” Wade shushes right against the hard outline of Steve’s arousal. “Let the genius work, baby.”

Saying Wade worships Steve’s dick would maybe be a bit of an overstatement, but not _wholly_ inaccurate. It’s just so fucking nice and it’s all Wade’s and he’s missed it almost as much as he misses the guy it’s attached to. Giving head hasn’t always been his favorite pastime, but he’s fucking good at it, enough for people to brave the sight of his face more than once. And, well, _now_ it’s still mindboggling to him that Steve is legitimately attracted to him, but having hard proof— _ha_ —is always particularly gratifying from this angle.

Steve is bracing with one hand on the table, tensing and relaxing in waves as Wade teases him with his breath, with his lips and tongue, but his other hand is on Wade. Stroking over his head, the back of his neck, an adoring thumb at the corner of his eye until it travels down to brush across his lips. He looks down at Wade with lust, yes, but also with what might be Capital F, _Feelings_ and Wade just… adores this man.

And also, his dick, which he decides has been subjected to enough teasing. But only because his mouth is feeling a little too empty without the heavy weight of Steve’s cock stuffed in it.

“ _Oh,_ ” Steve breathes out nearly silently, like the sound snuck out of some crevice deep in his chest before he could grab it. His fingers flutter against Wade’s jaw. “God, I missed you.”

A pleasant tingle makes its way down the back of Wade’s neck and he hums his agreement without pausing.

Steve can last as long as he wants to generally, he’s not as green at this as Wade had thought when they first got together. But he also has a very specific, Wade-shaped weakness that makes him weak in the knees with gratifying quickness, especially when Wade pulls out all the stops. Steve is mumbling praise under his breath and thrusting shallowly into Wade’s mouth before long.

“Yeah, Wade, so good, take it so pretty for me, hon,” Steve babbles quietly. He hisses through his teeth when Wade looks up at him again, eyes wet and chin slick, “ _Fuck_ , Wade _._ ”

The word blazes like fire through Wade’s arousal and nearly sets him off in his pants. He moans, even though it almost makes him gag, as he spares one hand off Steve’s thigh to fumble for his own fly.

“Oh, you—?” Steve realizes what he’s said, but his laughing smile only lasts a second before his mouth is falling open again, panting softly. “ _Fuck_ ,” he moans.

_Fucking tease,_ Wade thinks even as he starts stripping his own dick, speeding towards the point of no return. He takes Steve as deep as he can go and feels the way his cock fits into Wade’s throat send a shockwave through both of them.

Steve bites out a hearty and _entirely_ too loud “Oh, _fuck!_ ” before he spasms, spilling down Wade’s throat.

Wade has never psychoanalyzed himself before and isn’t about to start now, so he doesn’t care which of those things makes him come over his own fist so hard it drips onto the tile beneath him.


	4. C*nt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is explicit and contains gender play/gendered language. Skip if it would bother you to read.

This one Wade actually has a pretty specific plan for and, wonder of wonders, step one is running along pretty damn smoothly.

Meaning Wade is pressed nearly flat under Steve’s weight as they make out lazily on the couch.

They’re in Steve’s apartment tonight. Like _Steve’s apartment_ , not his half of a guest floor at Stark Towers, so they’re both significantly more relaxed. Wade checks the place regularly for bugs, just in case, but nothing is settled in here but Steve. His art and photos on the wall, décor and furniture he picked out and put together, stacks of books he actually reads, food he bought from the store himself.

His mercenary.

The thing about Steve being settled somewhere is that it means that he’s notched out spaces for Wade, too. Wade knows the door code and has a _key_ to the apartment so he can crash there even if Steve isn’t home. There is the soap he likes in the pantry, some junk food Steve thinks tastes plasticky but always indulges him in, a desk holster under the nightstand, MLP magnets on the fridge… a drawer of clothes Steve clearly hasn’t looked through.

Wade’s favorite pair of sexy panties—and his favorite comfy pair, too, but those aren’t relevant right now—were still folded into his pajamas when he pulled them out after his shower.

Sliding into them, he already felt warm and happy before he pulled on a pair of Steve’s sweat pants. He feels a little like a wrapped gift in the best way, because Steve had instantly gone all spacey-faced when he saw Wade was wearing his clothes.

It leaves him feeling squishy and sweet how quickly Steve gives up sketching to lavish attention on Wade. Really, Wade likes attention (and sex) any way he can get it, but he’s always loved when his partners get toppy with him, today being no exception.

Or, rather, the exception is how _much_ he loses himself to it, not giving a single shit about anything besides Steve’s mouth on his throat and one of his hands around Wade’s wrist and the other making a slow descent down his body.

“Got something I think you’ll like down there, baby,” Wade tells him.

Steve snorts. “I have liked it so far,” he agrees.

“You haven’t seen it yet.”

“Oh?” Steve says faintly, playing at the waistband of his pants. “Can I take a look then?”

Wade nods, his cheek brushing Steve’s head before he sits up and— _what a fucking guy,_ dude, he looks so good with kiss-red lips and hungry eyes that Wade doesn’t even remember to sing the song at him before Steve’s gaze falls down to his arousal. Wade lifts his hips to let Steve tug his pants down only to wind up holding the position when Steve freezes.

“Oh…” Steve says quietly, eyes wide.

The way the panties—purple and satiny—cradle his dick is _definitely_ a good look on him, in Wade’s humble opinion. It appears Steve agrees if the way his fingers tickling reverently along Wade’s panty line are any indication. It has his cock throbbing beneath the thin fabric. “You should see the back.”

Steve glances up at him, already looking a little blown out of his head, before he shuffles back to get the pants the rest of the way off and let Wade turn face down. His breath comes out in a rush. “ _Jeez,_ Wade…”

The assless panties were made specifically to create the look on Steve’s face in that moment. A heart-shaped window view of Wade’s ass has Steve’s mouth hanging slack like he’s having a revelation. Ass-velation? Revelasstion— _anyway_.

Wade arches his back to wiggle his hips at Steve who doesn’t hesitate to reach for him, petting over his ass with warm hands. “And I’m so _wet_ for you, Steve.”

“ _Wh_ …?” Steve chokes, but it turns into a low groan when he checks for himself, pulling Wade’s cheeks apart to get a good look at his slick asshole. “ _Wade…_ ” he exclaims like he’s going to keel over.

If Steve didn’t leave lube in the bathroom for opportunities exactly like this, he’s a fool, but Wade’s not going to hold it against him. “I started thinking about you in the shower,” he admits. “Wanted to get ready for you.”

“You’re a tease, you know that?” Steve says strangled.

“You wanna do something about it?” Wade challenges, though his voice trembles when Steve’s thumb presses against his hole.

“I wanna fuck you through this couch,” Steve admits and it practically turns Wade’s spine to liquid even before Steve lays back over him, grinding against him and kissing his neck. “You look so pretty, hon, wanna make you feel good.”

Wade almost gives in immediately, but he came into this with a goal. “ _Nng_ —Not until you call it what it is.”

Steve pulls back some. “What?”

“Where is it you wanna put that cock?”

“…Are you _kidding me_ , Wade?” Steve groans because he knows, of course he does.

“Come on, Steve,” Wade whines, rolling his hips back against Steve’s bulge. “I want you in me so bad, but you gotta ask for it right.”

Steve’s face is fever hot where it’s hidden in Wade’s neck. He groans after a pause, the sound of lust winning over pride. “Please, Wade, I…” He swallows, “Can I fuck your cunt?”

“ _Ajfsldadjfsfdfasd_ ,” Wade replies weakly, because yeah, he’d planned it, but he somehow hadn’t expected it to hit him so dead on. He’s leaking into his panties. “ _Steve_ …”

“You like that?” Steve asks, and he’s still hot and embarrassed, but the waver in Wade’s voice gave him something to latch onto. He kisses the back of Wade’s neck again, rolling his hips forward with a low moan that makes Wade shiver. “You like how hard I am for you? I wanna get in your cunt so bad, baby, I don’t even wanna take your panties off… _”_

Wade is so hard it feels like it should be a permanent condition. “Fuck, Steve, I thought you were-were trying to stay polite.”

“You rubbed off on me,” Steve replies, voice low as Wade feels him shoving his sweats out of the way. They both groan as Steve’s cock slips between his cheeks. “All the dirty shit you ask me to do, it’s in my head now. Wanna fuck you sloppy.” Wade can feel him smiling as he tugs the window in his panties down enough to press his head against Wade. “Make you _my girl._ ”

“ _Do it,_ ” Wade gasps back, head spinning because holy shit, holy shit, _holy shit—_

There are several other dirty words thrown around that day before Wade makes a mess of his panties and Steve makes a mess of him.

It’s a good ass day.


	5. C**ksucker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn’t meant to be sexy unless you find scaring the devil out of homophobes sexy. Obviously, there’s a slur used in this chapter, but it’s not heavy and not used between MCs.

Honestly, Wade is thinking about letting Number Five go on a technicality.

Steve is a lot of things, besides being a closet potty mouth, but Wade doesn’t want to think them into a conversation where Steve would be an asshole. A little shit, sure, yeah, always, but not a straight up _douche_. He thinks that Steve having actually sucked Wade’s cock—a thought that makes Wade lay face down on his kitchen floor and scream—absolves Steve of needing to say the word.

Imagine his fucking surprise when someone else gets it for him.

Nobody had invited Wade to this particular press event, but he settles along the side wall, waving giddily at the stage and then miming zipping his lips. Steve smiling in response seems to be enough of a deterrent to anyone who would try to kick him out. Perry the PR guy just gives him a tired look when Wade nudges his shoulder, loudly whispering, “I’ll be good!”

It’s the usual boring shit it always is. _Thank you for saving the city, Captain, what about S.H.I.E.L.D., let’s talk about you, what’s it like being an Avenger, how different is the twenty-first century?_ Blah, blah, blah, no pizzaz out of any of these reporters. Steve seems perfectly used to it, though, answers patiently and smiles at all the right times even if it’s a Camera Smile, nothing like the way his head tips back and eyes crinkle shut when he’s really laughing.

They open the floor to select audience questions, which are all pretty standard, too, even the weirdly specific blatant fan questions. Steve smile softens some, because normal civilians have that effect on him, especially the younger ones. When one kid, all wide-eyes and nervous adoration, asks if he’s been invited to Pride this year, Steve’s smile widens encouragingly.

Perry the PR guy looks like he’s about to interject when Steve opens his mouth to answer, but they both get cut off by a scoff.

“Captain America at the cocksucker parade? _Pfft._ ”

The smile drops off Steve’s face like a rock and he turns to the reporter seated in the front row, nudging the guy next to him into laughing, too. He’s a smarmy looking fella with over-gelled hair, a too-tight polo shirt, and eyebrows that look like they are desperately trying to escape from his face.

Wade immediately wants to help their cause—it’s probably some form of animal cruelty to leave them there—but the look on Steve’s face pins him to the spot. The host is calling for everyone to please be polite and not speak out of turn, but Steve doesn’t quite look like he’s hearing her. When Idiot Face looks back to the stage, he abruptly stops laughing.

“What if I am?” Steve says coolly.

The whole room freezes immediately.

“…W-what?” Idiot Face says, genuinely confused.

“What if I am a _cocksucker_?” Steve challenges, eyes hard. “Does that mean something to you?”

Perry The PR Guy is about to piss his pants and Wade is maybe about to cream himself.

The host tries to laugh it off. “Captain, I’m sure he was just—”

“He’s an adult and can speak for himself,” Steve says and, _woof_ , guy picked a bad day to try Steve apparently. Wade knows that tone well, there’s no squeezing out of the corner he just backed himself into. Wade is absolutely tickled.

Idiot Face looks like he’s regretting his whole life to date. “I-No, I didn’t mean— I wasn’t—” He tries to laugh and immediately launches himself way up the wrong fucking tree, “Captain, we all know you’re not.”

Wade knows what’s about to happen. He _knows Steve_ well enough to recognize what’s about to happen, but half of him still doesn’t believe it. Then Perry ruffles up like a startled bird and Wade realizes he’s not the only one who sees where this is going, so he clamps a hand over Perry’s mouth, giddy with anticipation.

Steve only leaves him waiting a second before he says, right into the microphone, in front of the media, God, and anyone else around to hear, “Buddy, I absolutely am and a damn good one, too.”

“I can attest to that!” Wade exclaims and Steve only looks faintly exasperated when he meets Wade’s gaze, but not shocked or embarrassed. Mostly, he looks like he’s still filled with righteous distain for the homophobic shitstain currently going pale in the front of the crowd.

Idiot Face doesn’t know where to look. “You—?”

“ _You_ are going to be respectful or I’ll put you out myself,” Steve warns him sternly. Then dismisses him entirely by turning back to the kid who’d spoken in the first place, now looking at Cap like their hero worship has hit Level 10. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I haven’t been invited to Pride in any professional capacity, but I’d love to go.”

It takes all of Wade’s strength to keep himself restrained for the rest of the event, which they’re very obviously trying to hurry along. Everyone’s focus has been completely derailed trying to figure out how to delicately ask if Steve is, like, actually serious, or just trying to make a point, and what’s with Deadpool, it has to be a joke, right, they’re not really, Deadpool is fucking crazy, why would Captain America ever—

Then the second the cameras stop recording, Steve is making a beeline in his direction and Wade wonders if this is what Christmas morning feels like for kids in nice homes.

Perry is vibrating in place like a chihuahua. “Captain, that’s _not_ how we agreed—”

“Do you have any clue how much I fucking love you?” Wade blurts. It’s not at all what was supposed to jump out of his mouth, but his brain-to-mouth filter has always been flimsy at best and it’s been sorely taxed today, whoops. But it’s probably fine? They can bro up that sentence if they need to or pretend Deadpool is just an eccentric with a hero crush or—

The startled look on Steve’s face has Wade’s heart in his throat _he fucked this up he fucked it up he ruined it godfuckingdamnit_ , but then Steve is smiling like sunlight, bemused and sweet.

“I love you, too, Wade,” he laughs like it’s _easy_ , like that’s not the most insane thing Wade has ever heard in his whole life. He honestly can’t hear anything at all, misses all of the unapologetic apology Steve offers Perry, misses the way there are still a few reporters whispering to themselves, staring at them. He’s just staring at Steve in complete mental silence, trying to imprint this moment on his soul because, _I love you, too, Wade._

Steve notices after a moment, whatever he was saying to Perry trailing off as he faces Wade completely. “I love you, too, Wade _,_ ” he repeats firmly, taking his hand to pull him closer. He doesn’t let go when he goes back to addressing Perry, who looks like he’s having some sort of episode.

That day, Wade isn’t even thinking about dirty words.

It’s only much later, he remembers to update his list, but the blank space under ‘ _cock ~~sucker?~~ maybe just cock’,_ where all the other words have tentative plans, is written “ _STEVE FUCKING LOVES ME!!_ ” which is much more important in the grand scheme of things.


	6. Motherf**ker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet.

Wade has been very, very good lately.

It’d be a bit of a far cry to say that dating Steve inspires _obedience_ or anything, but Wade does his very, _very_ best to stay out of trouble. At least in any way that would land him on the news (again). Part of that is being in something of a renewed honeymoon phase with Steve, unable to get enough of him and, for some reason, not wearing out his welcome with his whole…everything. Steve seems to enjoy the attention, whatever kind Wade gives him, even if he still shakes his head in exasperation at Wade’s not-infrequent PDA bombs.

There’s a very nice picture of Wade dipping Steve into a kiss at Pride on the cover of _OUT_ magazine that Wade has hanging in his living room. It makes him so stupidly happy he doesn’t want to give them (or his beloved Captain) the shitty press that would come along with him… being his whole, unfiltered self with the general public. Oh well.

There’s always dirty work to be done that he’s good enough to not get caught doing and Steve is smart enough to not ask questions about.

Point is, Wade hasn’t had a run in with any legal entities in months and when he’s gotten his NAAB (“Not An Avenger, But…”) assignments, he’s managed to be less destructive and more _helpful_. He’s still only Steve’s favorite, which is really the only important part, but Clint is chummy enough and Sam doesn’t seem to hate him. He even says thank you— _without sarcasm!_ —after a mission goes sideways and Wade gets them out of a jam.

“And I didn’t kill _anyone_ ,” Wade is saying to Steve as they head home after an annoyingly complex cleanup process Wade wouldn’t have bothered with if Steve hadn’t bothered. “Not even a little maiming. Did you see, Stevie, didja?”

“Is he always like this?” Sam asks tiredly, but it’s almost amused as he walks beside them.

“Yeah, he is,” Steve says like he’s tired, but he’s _absolutely_ amused, and fond to boot. He’s fighting a smile, Wade can see it. “I did see, Wade, and I appreciate it.”

“Yeah? And you know, a very polite little birdy—the one with the shield, not the wings or the arrows, though _they_ should start a band together—”

Clint snorts. “Get right on that.”

“—told me that appreciation is very important in a relationship.”

“Uh-huh…” Steve drawls, because he probably recognizes that this is just Wade’s windup to wheedling, but he’s still smiling now.

“And you know, equivalent exchange is _very_ important to fey folk.”

“Is that a joke about me being a fairy?”

“Ha! Hey, that’s funny, no, it wasn’t. But hey, you have granted me _several_ wishes. You remember how hard I—?”

“ _Ah-ah!_ ” Sam cuts in. “Do _not_ finish that sentence, I don’t wanna know where it ends.”

Wade blows a raspberry, but lets it drop. “Anyway, my point is, if we’re throwing around _appreciation_ , there’s definitely a thing or two I could think of that I would enjoy as a thank you…”

Steve is looking at him with an eyebrow cocked. “Could you, now?”

“What depraved favor are you trying to goad him into?” Clint asks.

“My sixth wish,” Wade answers instantly, hands clasped by his chin and dancing in place.

It takes Steve a moment to catch on, but then his face lights up with the same realization it always does when this game comes back around. He stops walking and sighs at the sky like he’s asking for strength.

He must not get enough because a second later he _snorts_ , doubling over to laugh at the ground. It’s the best sound Wade has ever heard in his life (followed shortly by the entire list of ways Steve says his name and also the very nice sounds Steve makes when he’s having sex).

The other two pause beside him, dumbfounded, but Clint’s the one to speak up, hesitating like he’s already regretting his curiosity. “What’s… his sixth wish?”

“You’re so…” Steve has tears in his eyes when he manages to get himself upright, still chuckling. He looks right at Wade, face bright with joy even as he shakes his head wiping at his eye. “You _motherfucker_.”

Clint and Sam’s eyebrows both skyrocket, but Wade doesn’t bother explaining the game, too busy clapping and giggling. He kisses Steve through his mask and mumbles, “ _Your_ motherfucker.”

“Why is that almost cute?” Clint muses out loud, turning to Sam and shaking his head. “Y’know, I’m almost disgusted.”

“Truly nauseating,” Sam agrees, rolling his eyes before walking on.

“Aw, I think they’re jealous, huh, Sugar Tits?” Wade beams at Steve who shakes his head.

“Low hanging fruit,” Steve admonishes, kissing his cheek.

“So are my—”

“ _Wade_.”

Even that inflection of his name is one of Wade’s favorite sounds.


	7. T*ts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand more smut to top it off. Gendered language again.

Wade is so close to a bingo it’s making his teeth itch, but getting Steve to say tits has turned out to be trickier than anticipated.

For all that Wade—and most of their friends, honestly—tease him about it, Steve _is_ generally just a really respectful guy. He’s gotten all precious about how impolite the word tits is, so Wade crosses off any ideas that involve Steve saying it in public. Only after he’s _tried_ them, but y’know, some things you gotta learn on the fly when someone (very much not Steve) snorts beer out their nose laughing. It’s fine, though, Steve rolls with it because, ultimately, he knows he’s winning. He _knows_ it’s revving Wade’s gas to leave this one little word, arguably the _weakest_ word on the list dangling like this. He gets this dumb little smirk every time Wade tries to nudge him into saying it and he rather obviously dodges it.

“You’re a little shit, you know that, right?” Wade tells him after dinner one night.

Steve is all smiles, crowding into Wade’s lap to kiss him. “Birds of a feather, pal.”

Well, when all else fails—and it has by now—Wade still loves that he can reliably count on Steve’s libido to work some magic for him.

“Say it,” Wade demands, the nineteenth—or twentieth? He kinda lost count—time he gets Steve right to the edge of coming before he stops touching him entirely.

“Wade, _fuck_ ,” Steve groans, but his hands are obediently at his sides, white-knuckling the edge of the mattress hard enough that he may need a new one by the end of this. “Come on…”

Wade kisses Steve’s thigh, leaving his mouth there to feel the way it’s all hard with tension. “As much as I love the word fuck in your mouth, that’s not what I’m asking for.” It’s also not a safe word, so Wade is more than happy to keep this going until Steve is gooned out of his fucking mind.

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps through his teeth and Wade grins.

“Oh, baby, I was hoping you’d say that.”

Obviously, Wade’s edition of the serum didn’t give him _quite_ the intended effect—the intended effect gorgeous and trembling around him right now—but it does give him a helluva lot more stamina than the average person. He fully intends to use all of it today.

Never let it be said Wade doesn’t work hard when he wants to.

They’ve always been able to go at it for as long as they want, but that usually involves coming as many times as they can, too. Wade doesn’t even play at making it that easy for him today. Steve stays honest to a fault the whole time, frantically pants out “ _stop, stop_ ” every time he gets close to coming like Wade doesn’t know just about all of his tells. Wade stops and sits there playing with himself until Steve calms down again, even though he’s still leaking pre like a sieve the whole time. He gives him hand jobs that phase into some _fantastic_ head, if Wade says so himself, and he does. Steve seems to agree because he’s sweating and heaving for breath like he’s trying to pull a helicopter out of the sky with his bare hands.

“Please,” Steve gasps when Wade presses him back onto his elbows and slides his fingers behind his balls. “Wade, babe, please…”

“Magic word,” Wade sings back before pressing slick fingers into Steve, heart pounding at the way he immediately clamps down.

“ _Stop, fuck,_ wait, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” Wade says giddily, but obligingly remains still. “Not ‘til I get what I waaaaaant…”

Something about that makes Steve tremble all over, pulling his own hair in some misguided attempt at control that has his breath hitching. Wade waits—also never let it be said Wade isn’t patient when he wants to be—until he can move again, stretches Steve until he says stop again, nearly with every increasing finger. When Steve cries for a break just before Wade can start wondering if he’d be down to take his whole hand, he pulls back some to lay down, the space between them electric.

Part of him, a mean little part, wants to tell Steve he’s not going to be allowed to come at all today, just to see how long he can drag this out. There are people who do this for days at a time and Wade wonders, cock throbbing in his hand, what Steve would be like strung out on denial for days in a row. That’s a thought for another time, though, because then a better, more immediate idea starts banging a gong in the back of his mind. He lights up visibly enough that Steve notices. “… _What?_ ”

Steve’s dick is damn near about to turn purple by the time Wade is leaned back with Steve sinking onto his cock with a drawn-out moan that shatters out of his mouth.

“Wade _…_ ” he gasps, eyes clenched shut.

Wade’s skin feels like it’s on too tight, but this time in a good way as he grits out, “Yeah, babe, right here.”

“Wade,” Steve says again, like he’s forgotten any other word he could possibly use. It seems like it takes a lot for him to get his eyes open, pupils blown wide and dark, gaze glazed over with pleasure and denial. “ _Wade._ ”

It takes all Wade’s focus not to come right then. “Right here, Stevie, I got you,” he says, planting his feet on the bed to thrust up some. Steve is a vice around him.

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” he demands, gathering his knees into a better position to move with Wade, bracing himself on Wade’s chest as he fucks himself. He’s dribbling steadily onto Wade’s stomach now, which Wade watches with fascination so hot it feels like it’s going to burn permanently into his memory.

“Are you gonna come if I don’t?” Wade asks, but it would take a gun to his head to get him to stop if Steve wants him to keep going, and even then, only maybe. He’s come back from worse for less fun reasons. _Anywho_ …

Steve bites his lip, a nearly silent whine starting up in the back of his throat, but he doesn’t answer. The way he’s moving, shuddering and flinching tighter around Wade like he can’t help himself, distracts Wade. He runs his hands up Steve’s sides, stares up at him where his hair has flopped and stuck to the sweat on his brow. It’s a little like staring into the sun; he’s so beautiful it hurts.

Wade is desperately close to throwing the game and just letting whatever happens happen, but he only manages to get out “Steve—” before Steve breaks.

“You win, you win, I’m gonna—I’m gonna _come on your tits!_ ” Steve exclaims _finally_ , before grabbing his own arousal, moaning like he’s getting paid for it as he strokes himself off.

“Oh, my _fuck_ , _BINGO!!!_ ” Wade shouts— _moans_ —and comes almost immediately which… Actually, preemptively scratch that thought, it’s _not_ embarrassing, it’s damn impressive timing, honestly, he’s been waiting just as long as Steve has.

If it makes Steve laugh as he jerks himself to an extraordinarily long orgasm, well, fuck, all the better. That’s an awesome combination of facial expressions Wade gets to witness as Steve, rather copiously, comes all over his tits.

Steve hasn’t stopped moaning or laughing, quaking where he’s slumped over Wade, cock still twitching in his fist. “You’re fucking ridiculous, Wade.”

“Huh. That’s…” Wade wraps his arms around Steve, heedless of the mess, and has to take another breath before he can get the words out. “That’s a funny way to pronounce _amazing_.”

“That, too,” Steve agrees easily letting himself be drawn down against Wade’s chest, too tired to protest.

Later, Wade’s going to take plenty of time to be insufferable about this, because he can’t _not_ give Steve a hard time, he’s just not wired that way. He can imagine the look on Steve’s face, the amused annoyance at losing a game even if he _wanted_ to lose in the end, but imaginary Steve’s face isn’t important right now.

Wade is way too focused on the very real weight of Steve laid across his body, hair tickling his ear and breath tickling the side of his neck, uncomfortably sticky and hot in a way fantasies never are. That’s the important bit, though. They’re gross and sticky because they just fucked. And Steve loves him even when he’s playing a stupid game. Those are the facts of his life. It’s all real and Wade keeps getting more proof of that every day. Huh.

…Wade just came so hard he’s gotten sentimental.

“There are more than seven wonders,” he mumbles, kissing Steve’s head and rubbing a hand down his back.

Steve laughs tiredly, kissing Wade’s neck. “I love you, too, Wade.”

…Yeah, there are a lot more than seven wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading…you’re the shit and don’t you forget it!
> 
> It’s the most wonderful time of the year, dolls! Fandom Tr*mps Hate is going live on Inauguration Day this year. Celebrate purging the orange mold from the white house with fanish delights and spitefully/lovingly helping the people he hurt!


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